


Explosion

by Twisted_Mind



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski's A+ Parenting, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: He takes another step back, away from his dad’s devastated expression, and closer to the door. “You don’t get to stand there and lecture me, treat me like I’m not an adult, after I made that choice. After what you put me through after she died. You just don’t.”





	Explosion

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know, okay? I legitimately do not know what the hell happened on this one. I caught feelings somehow, and Green encouraged me, so this is her fault. 
> 
> (That's my story and I'm sticking to it.) 
> 
> **Warning** for implied child neglect. Nothing huge, and pretty much canon-standard, but. Take care of yourselves. (Oh, and you should also be aware that there are references to kink/the BDSM practise of safewords, but nothing happens "on-screen" as it were.)

 

 

He dates Peter for nearly a year before he's ready to tell his dad. It’s the last thing he wants to do, because he knows— _knows_ —that this is going to go badly, but he honestly didn’t expect John to curse a blue streak.

He waits, face impassive even as his heart gallops in his chest. He doesn’t need his dad’s permission or blessing or whatever, he’s been living on his own for college for the last two years now, but his dad is the only family he has left and given the man’s job he’d rather not wind up estranged. With his luck and his father’s stubbornness, this could be the last time they ever speak to each other.

John pauses for breath, so he takes his chance. “Are you done?”

His dad glares bloody murder, but doesn’t start swearing again. “Don’t think for one second that we’re done talking about—”

“Why not?”

“Excuse me? What do you mean, ‘why not’?”

Oh, shit. He said that out loud. “What is there to talk about here? I let you know I’m dating someone. You did the safe sex talk before I went to college and said you were fine with the fact that I’m bi. How is that not the end of the discussion?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kid. You and I both know that even if the age gap were appropriate, I can’t allow—”

And suddenly, he’s so angry that the words come flying out before he’s really thought them through. “The ship has sailed on your control over my life, and did a long time ago. And even if it didn’t, last I checked, I was an adult.”

“You’re nineteen, Stiles.”

The condescension makes him angrier, makes his lips twist in a snarl that Peter would be proud of. “Yeah, and I was ten when I was making sure you didn’t die choking after passing out drunk. What’s your fucking point?”  

For a moment, John just stares, mouth hanging open, and Stiles feel his stomach sink. He wonders if he should apologize, but before he can, John finds his voice. “Don’t you speak to me like that! I’m the parent, you’re the—”

“—since _when_?!” Things he’s refused to speak out loud, things he hated himself for even thinking are suddenly bubbling up out of his mouth. “Since you spent more time at the station than at home?”

“Jesus, kid, I can’t help that I had to w—”

He keeps going like he can’t hear. It’s rushing out of him like an explosion. “Since I went off to college and you realized that I’m not here to do the laundry and grocery shopping and make sure you don’t eat yourself into an early grave?”

John’s face darkens, and he opens his mouth again, but Stiles doesn’t give him the chance to speak. “Or have you been the parent since I fucking died to save your life, all because you wouldn’t believe me?”

John steps forward with a hand out, expression pained. “Stiles, I never wanted you to do that, and you have to know that I would’ve done the same for you in a heart—”

Stiles steps away, chin lifting. “But would you have come back for me?”

John stops. “What?”

He looks his father square in the face, and forces himself not to sugar-coat the truth. “When we sacrificed ourselves, we knew there’d be a price to pay. Knew that you can’t come back from that without changing, but we did it, accepted what it would cost us, because it was worth it to us. We died, and we decided to come back. And I don’t know that you would have.”

He takes another step back, away from his dad’s devastated expression, and closer to the door. “You don’t get to stand there and lecture me, treat me like I’m not an adult, after I made that choice. After what you put me through after she died. You just don’t.”

He stuffs his feet into his shoes and pauses with his hand on the front door. “I’m gonna go, because I’m not interested in fighting with you. Do me a favour, though, and figure out why you think I’m still a child when you should know better than anyone else that I’m anything but.”

And then he leaves, and doesn’t slam the door behind him. He wants to, but he does the mature thing, partly to prove a point, but mostly because he knows that won’t make him feel better. He’s too angry to be satisfied by slamming doors.

He drives back to Peter’s on autopilot, and lets himself in, quietly fuming. He’s too busy scowling into the hall closet to notice he’s not alone. “It went that well, did it?”

He flicks a glance at Peter, and then goes back to emptying his pockets into the bowl on the hall table. “Worse.”

There’s a pause. “I’d ask if you wanted to talk about it or if you’d prefer a distraction, but you’re distracted enough already. Was the good Sheriff really that put out at having me as a potential son-in-law?”

Stiles snorts. “I wish. He was pissed about it being you, but mostly over the fact that he doesn’t get a say, because I happen to be an adult.”

Peter’s quiet again, and Stiles doesn’t break the silence. He also doesn’t brush past his boyfriend, even though his shoes are off, his hoodie is hung up, and his wallet and keys are where they belong. Agitation makes his skin crawl, and the last thing he wants is to talk about it, but he doesn’t have it in him to pretend he’s fine.

Feeling Peter’s hands grip his hips brings something like relief. “Here’s what we’re going to do, then,” Peter murmurs, his breath tickling the back of Stiles’s neck. “You’re going to go to the bedroom, strip, and wait for me. When I come in, I’m going to bend you over, and spank the temper clean out of you. You can curse and fight me all you want, but I’ll keep going until you’re done or you safeword. Sound good?”

A thrill goes up his spine. “Yes,” he breathes. It’s perfect. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Peter nips the back of his neck, and it makes his breath hitch. “No need to thank me, baby. I’m happy to give you what you need.”

Hearing that on the heels of the fight with his father makes his lungs burn. He turns his head to kiss Peter’s cheek. “Love you.”

Peter grips his jaw and kisses him breathless. “Love you too, sweet boy. Now go strip for me.”

He obeys, and while he’s still frustrated and restless, he’s calmer than when he got here, because he knows Daddy will take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://queerfictionwriter.tumblr.com/).


End file.
